The Witches Barn

Ever since I was a small child my grandparents forbid me to go near the old barn that quietly sits in the field behind their house. My grandfather refused to even enter the barn past dark. Grandmother wouldn’t go near the barn period; she even kept the curtains closed in the dining room because the window looked directly out across the field where the barn was located.

I always knew that something bad had happened inside of the barn, but nobody would ever talk about it. It became one of those taboo topics that everyone avoided.

We had a few cows in the barn and of course, the chickens would freely roam in and out as they pleased. I can clearly recall the night that I was awakened by a terrifying sound coming from the barn. One of the cows was making a horrendous, hair-raising sound. My grandfather stood like a soldier in the kitchen holding his shotgun close and tight. He peered through the screen door but refused to take one step toward the barn.

“Grandpa! We have to go check on Milly!” I urged. I considered Milly to be my cow and I had raised her since the day she was born. “We will check on her in the morning,” he whispered without taking his eyes off of the barn. Grandmother hurried and escorted me back to my bedroom. She pulled the shade and locked the door. “What’s happening?” I cried. “It’s okay, we just need to stay inside until the sun comes up.” she attempted to comfort me.

I could still hear Milly making that horrible sound. It was frightening, she was clearly in pain and struggling. “Why can’t we go check on her?” I questioned as I wiped the tears from my cheeks. “It’s not safe, try to get some sleep.” she gave me a dreadful look. She knew good and well that none of us would be sleeping that night.

The next morning, I rushed down the stairs and into the kitchen. Grandmother was already preparing breakfast. The smell of bacon frying in her old cast iron skillet was mesmerizing. Grandpa was sitting at the table sipping on a steaming cup of coffee. “Can we go check on Milly now?” I anxiously asked. “I already have, Milly died last night, I’ll fire up the dozer and bury her after breakfast.” He frowned as he looked at me. I saw the tears trickle down his cheeks.

I could now feel the tears burning down my own face. “How? What happened to her?” I cried. “I suspect that it was a wolf or coyote maybe even a bear,” he replied as he looked at me over his coffee cup. I was just a young girl but I knew good and well that nothing could have gotten inside of the barn. It might have been old and run down but the door was strong and sturdy.

I bolted from the table and quickly dashed out the old, creaky screen door. I heard my grandfather chasing after me so I ran just as fast as I could. When I reached the barn, I quickly swung open the door. “Don’t go in there!” I heard grandfather shout as he made his way across the field.

The horrible smell turned my stomach and I squeezed both hands tightly over my mouth. I could see Milly laying lifelessly in the hay, flies were already blowing her corpse. The entire barn smelled like a slaughterhouse. The thick, metallic scent of blood hung heavily in the air. Grandfather rushed to my side and took me by the arm attempting to prevent me from having a closer look. I pulled away from his grip and ran to Milly.

I felt my knees buckle when I focused on her. Her head was completely severed from her body. There were only dark, void holes where her eyes should have been. She had been sliced open and entrails laid seeping into the ground. I tried to scream but my voice had fallen silent. I felt my grandfather scoop me up into his strong, safe arms as he carried me back across the field and into the house.

“She’s a little shaken up, but she’ll be fine,” he said as he laid me on the sofa. “Keep her in the house!” he gave my grandmother a stern and serious look. I buried my face deep into the soft, velvet cushions. My body trembled as I cried and cried until my body felt completely dry. I loved Milly, and I was absolutely horrified by what I had seen.

I had grown up on the farm and had seen my fair share of dead animals and blood. This was different, this was not normal. Whatever had happened to Milly was strange and unusual, quite possibly supernatural.

I watched as several neighbors arrived to help grandfather bury the cow. I promised that I wouldn’t go near the barn so I sat quietly on the porch and watched from a distance. I could hear them talking as they looked at Milly’s body with bewilderment and confusion.

As I grew older, I never forgot about what happened to Milly. I had even helped my grandfather move all of the other cows into a new barn. I watched as he boarded up the door to the old barn and even secured it with heavy chains. “I’m not a child anymore, I deserve to know what happened in that barn! Why is everyone so afraid of it?” I looked straight into my grandfather's eyes as I demanded an explanation.

He took a long, deep breath as he stared out across the field. I noticed his fragile hands trembling as he held his coffee cup.

“When your grandmother and I first moved here, we were young, just married, and still kids in our own right. One night a young woman arrived at the door, it was storming something awful so we invited her inside. She said that she had an accident down the road and needed a safe place to stay until morning. I agreed to let her sleep in the barn and then I’d drive her into town when the sun came up.

Now, I always heard that there was an old witch who lived in these mountains, but it was just an old story that people told to keep their kids close to home; or so I thought.

That night something tragic took place inside that barn. I had five cows and twenty-three chickens; they were all dead the next morning. When your grandmother and I went to the barn we could smell the death before we ever opened the door. We found the young woman huddled in the corner chanting some kind of nonsense. She was covered with blood and her eyes were completely black and somber.

She lunged at your grandmother like a wild animal. I struggled to pull her off, she was so strong. I could see that your grandmother was injured, there was blood coming from her neck. The lady was biting and chewing her flesh. I had no choice but to fire my gun.

I rushed your grandmother to the doctor in town, it took twenty-something stitches to close her up. We told them that a coyote has gotten into the barn and attacked her. When we arrived back home, I went into the barn to dispose of the body, but it was gone. There were all kinds of drawings and symbols on the walls. Witchcraft, that’s exactly what it was.

After that, the witch always came back to visit us on a full moon. She’d kill some of our livestock and spend hours in the barn before going back into the mountains at sunrise. She warned that if we denied her our animals - she’d kill us instead.

We never know what form she’ll come back in. Sometimes she’s a bear, mountain lion, or even an innocent-looking child. I tried to burn that damn barn down several times but it just won’t burn. I suspect that she’ll be back again on the next full moon and again after that.

"Grandpa, why did you sell all of the cows and chickens this morning?" My voice trembled in fear as I waited for his response.

"We're too old to keep fighting." That's all he said before he stood up and made his way back into the kitchen.

It was going to be a full moon that night. I sat silently, staring out across the field at that old barn.

I waited....

I watched....

I braced myself for what I knew would surely come.